


when it gets real

by wheretheskiesend



Series: lotr | aralas oneshots [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining Aragorn | Estel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Treebeard (LOTR) - Freeform, Young Legolas Greenleaf, and sauron of course, even though he isn't exactly in this one shot, he deserves recognition, he was the best, oh!, well except for some orcs and stuff, why is this not a tag, yikes and saruman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-12 21:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17475140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheretheskiesend/pseuds/wheretheskiesend
Summary: after the war, legolas and aragorn are reunited





	when it gets real

**Author's Note:**

> okay, fair warning, i only just finished watching the movies, and i haven't even had enough time to start reading the books, but i really loved how much these two cared for each other, and openly showed affection for each other without it being twisted by the context
> 
> this is my first lotr fic, so i would love some feedback on characterization and all that. this is going to be a part of a little one shot series that will be updated as it goes along, but for now, i hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> [title is a lyrics from the g.r.l song that matches the name of this series!]

The winds blew ever-so-quietly, the leaves flickering to the ground under the sun’s watchful gaze. 

 

“It is done, then?” The elf’s voice carried well over the breeze. He turned from the setting sun to face the rolling green hills.

 

He nodded. “She sails with her people, as of late.”

 

“You do not seem surprised?” The elf asked. The man shook his head, a bittersweet smile twisting his lips.

 

“I do not think she was ever as in love with me as she was with the idea of falling in love with me,” he admitted. “I do not blame her.”

 

“Why the marriage?”

 

“I loved her at the time,” he offered. “Elrond wanted us to be happy, he assumed it would best be in union.”

 

The elf nodded slowly. “Marriage.”

 

“Marriage,” the man agreed. “Though we were hardly the couple Gandalf foretold of, but for a few weeks. If any at all.”

 

“You miss her,” the elf suggested, and the man laughed, a bitter thing.

 

“How could I not? I spent much of my life pining after her, and then when I finally had her, I realized it was all for naught.”

 

“You live as an elf now.” The man knew he spoke of immortality, but couldn’t help snort at the irony of it. To lose his wife the minute he gained the ability to live forever.

 

“I would die a hundred times if not to reprise the decisions I made,” he admitted, meeting the elf’s gaze for the first time since he’d found him on the hilltop.

 

“Do not say things you will regret,” the elf warned. “Time is but a fickle thing, it is far too easily persuaded.”

 

“As am I, I suppose,” the man agreed. “You must be tired,  _ mellon nin _ . Would you prefer to spend the night out here or in one of the other rooms?”

 

The elf looked surprised, as if he hadn’t been expecting an invitation. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble—”

 

“It is never too much trouble,” the man interrupted. “I am sure Gimli will be quite pleased to start some competition of sorts.”

 

The elf looked as if he’d almost smiled. “He has yet to let go of such a rivalry.”

 

“Perhaps he simply jests,” the man suggested. “He seeks your company, Legolas.”

 

“What would you do, if you were in his position?”

 

“I would pester you until you noticed me, but of course, I would never admit it, for I am a dwarf, and it is the way of my people to not reciprocate comradery with the elves,” the man imitated his friend poorly, sticking his nose up with the air of superiority, before dropping his voice to conspiratorial whisper and adding, “for they are taller than I.”

 

Legolas laughed, despite himself. “Then I will stay, if not to please the poor thing.”

 

“How you wound me, staying for Gimli and not your dearest friend!” The man proclaimed, hiding a smile with his fist. The elf’s eyes widened.

 

“That was not my intention, I simply felt that you could use the rest, Aragorn,” Legolas claimed. “You look as if your eyes have gazed upon the moon one night too often.”

 

The smile vanished from his lips, but lingered in his eyes, tainted by bittersweet melancholy. “Sleep is hard to come by; there is no rest for the weary, I suppose.”

 

“You burden yourself, Sam and Frodo have no trouble sleeping anymore, if I recall,” the elf returned. “They wouldn’t speak of what happened on Mount Doom, for it must have been terrible, and yet the found solace in each other.”

 

Aragorn raised his eyebrow skeptically. “You suggest I lay with Gimli?”

 

Mirth filled the elf’s eyes, sparkling under the moonlight. “Was Arwen not taller than you?”

 

“I fear you have labeled me as too simple a being, to have preferences as such,” Aragorn retorted. Legolas smiled glibly. 

 

“Perhaps not Gimli then,” he whispered, his eyes lingering on the wrinkles around his friend’s eyes, crinkling with a smile meant for only him to glimpse. 

 

Aragorn leaned forward slightly, brushing fair hair behind a sharp elven ear. “Nay, not Gimli.”

 

Legolas turned to meet his eyes once more, eyes twinkling with humor. “I suppose you could find either Merry or Pippin far more suitable. They are taller than Gimli, I should think.”

 

Aragorn snorted, pushing Legolas away gently. “It is not a matter of who I should find myself lying with, but a matter of sleep not finding me. I find rest comes much easier when Faramir forces me to handle the meetings with the other lord, although I suppose it is not fair to them.”

 

“What would Gandalf say, I wonder, if he knew what you were up to in those meetings?”

 

“It is not so scandalous, I simply require rest for my head,” Aragorn retorted, refusing to back down.

 

“And your eyes,” Legolas added, smiling softly. “And your legs too, perhaps.”

 

“And my eyes and my legs, yes indeed,” Aragorn snapped. “Perhaps I sleep in those meetings, but if no one knows is there anything to be concerned with?”

 

“I know,” the elf offered, stepping until their toes were almost touching.

 

“You would not say anything,” Aragorn warned, but Legolas shrugged.

 

“They need only ask,” he said. “Imagine their shock at the King of Men, sleeping during his meetings rather than paying attention.”

 

Aragorn smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder for a brief moment before embracing the elf. “It has been far too long, I have missed you, most unfortunately.”

 

“‘Most unfortunately’, he says,” Legolas mocked. “To think I had almost missed you.”

 

Aragorn smirked slightly. “Only almost?”

 

The look in the elf’s eyes softened, blurring into something familiar, not quite friendship but not quite the love Aragorn had felt between himself and Arwen. “I have missed you as well,  _ mellon nin _ .” He leaned closer, letting himself be folded in Aragorn’s arms.

 

For a moment, as the wind blew their hair around their faces, and the moon smiled down on them, it was almost as if nothing had changed.

 

As if they hadn’t been driven up to the brink of death and back.

 

As if they hadn’t lost their comrades in the war.

 

As if there hadn’t been a war to begin with.

 

As if they were an elf and a man, not a prince and a king.

**Author's Note:**

> find my on tumblr: @k-e-r-b-e-r-o-s


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